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Monday, February 23, 2015

It's such a simple little note. But it tore me to shreds when I found it.

The little boy who wrote this - the amazing, smart, funny, clumsy, aggravating, loving, sarcastic, lovable little boy with the huge blue eyes - hasn't seen or heard from his father in a year.

His father told me a year ago today - as we were in the process of moving to our new house in a better school district with less crime and more room where our son could finally have his very own bedroom for the first time in his life - he told me that I couldn't expect him to drive "all that distance" to see his boy.

All that distance. Those words rang in my ears as I told him flat-out "if you can't make seeing your son a priority in your life, that's YOUR problem, not mine".

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but he can drive it to play in a softball tournament. I know he did, because I saw him that day, right here in the same town where we live now.

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but his wife can bring their other two kids to town to go swimming in the pool that's less than a mile from our house. I know about that because a mutual friend saw them there and mentioned it to me later.

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but he can drive triple that distance to have a birthday party for his daughter and not even bother to invite his son. I found out about that one when another friend shared some pictures with me.

All that distance. In this day and age, distance doesn't really matter, does it? There are cell phones and computers and Skype and FaceTime and emails and texts just to say hi or to send a funny picture or to find out why his insurance company is suddenly getting bills for emergency room visits and plastic surgeons and allergist appointments.

All that distance, in reality, is 15 miles. FIFTEEN MILES. That's how far it is from my house to the town where he (supposedly) lives. I say "supposedly" because I have no idea, honestly. I know he moved, but the last I had heard he had only moved a few blocks away from where he had been living - but I was never given an address. Thanks to my phone getting run over by a car one day, I no longer have his phone number so I can't just call him - but even if I did, why should I? He's made it clear that all that distance is too much for him. He's pulled this crap before (although not for this long) and always comes crawling back with a bunch of excuses about how he was oh-so-busy and just didn't have time to make contact. I've tried to force the relationship, and it just didn't work.

And that sucks.

But you know who it sucks for the most?

Him. He's the one who is missing out. He's the one who missed the baseball games and the soccer games and the basketball games. He missed the parent/teacher conferences and the open houses and Christmas and birthday and Thanksgiving and everything else. He's the one who may be a willing participant in fatherhood with his other kids, but who has made the choice to walk out on this one.

For this amazing little boy though? He's going to be just fine. He has a mother who loves him no matter how much trouble he gets himself into, he has siblings that can't wait to hang out with him and goof around with him, he has The Dude to show him all of the necessary manly stuff, he has teachers who can't get over how smart (and mischievous) he can be, and he has friends knocking at the door almost every single day wanting him to go out and play with them.

All that distance that he's put between himself and his son is only going to hurt him in the long run - because we are just fine.

Monday, February 9, 2015

A couple of weeks ago, I did a post about January and how it can be kind of an emotional month for me.

There are a lot of things going on in my life right now. Physically, mentally, emotionally - just a lot of stuff. Some minor, some major, some right in the middle.

I generally try to keep a pretty positive outlook on life. I'm the type of person to "act as if" and just push my way through when I feel like crap because most of the time, I have no choice in the matter so I might as well make the most of it. What I don't always admit is that it's hard.

Being a parent is hard.

Being a friend and girlfriend is hard.

Being a homeowner is hard.

Sometimes, just being is hard.

The past few weeks have been a struggle for me. I've been in a funk, and although it happens occasionally - this one was worse than usual. I still got up every morning and took care of the kids and did what I had to do, but that was pretty much it. I didn't do a whole lot around the house, I didn't go out and do anything fun and exciting, and I certainly didn't do anything that didn't absolutely have to be done. I made lists of things to do around the house, but at the end of the day I'd just throw them out because looking at lists that didn't have a single thing crossed off just made me feel worse.

Part of it has been the weather. Although the past few days have been nice, the cold weather just makes me feel blah. It makes me hurt and I don't want to do anything. Part of it is hormones, because you know, I'm a woman and I'm in my mid-40s and everything just has to get all sorts of out of whack right about now. Part of it is just normal everyday stress that is made worse by crappy weather and wacky hormones and my usual lack of sleep from trying to get everything done.

I lost it last night. I was exhausted after 2 full days of cutting down bushes and digging up stumps in front of the house, and I needed help. The kids were not cooperative and didn't do what I asked them to do, and I flipped. I locked myself in my bedroom and told them that getting everything done was up to them. At that point, I didn't care what happened, and I let them know it. I even took out some of my frustration on The Dude via a long text conversation.

Not knowing what to expect, I came out of my room several hours later. The boys had all gotten baths and were in bed, supper was cleaned up with the leftovers in the fridge, a load of towels had been dried and folded, stuff was ready for school, and more laundry was being done. They didn't do it without complaint though, and I heard quite a bit of grumbling about it (including a "you didn't do anything tonight, Mom" to which I snarked back "welcome to my world") - but they did it. We talked about it a little this morning, and they all agreed that had they been a bit more cooperative to start with, it wouldn't have resulted in my freak out.

Once I got everyone to school this morning, I came home and got busy. While I scrubbed bathrooms, I thought about everything. I contemplated how I really try to only talk about the good stuff here or on facebook. I always try to portray this image that everything is good and life is easy - but in reality, it's not. There are days or weeks where things really just plain suck - and while they're not pretty, they're nothing to be ashamed of. They're all a part of life, and trying to pretend that they don't exist doesn't really accomplish anything worthwhile and all I end up doing is bottling it all up until I finally flip out and go on a Mom Strike like I did last night. I need to get it through my thick head that it's ok to talk about the bad days.

It's ok to not be ok.

But the good news is that now that I had my freak out and took a break from everything, I feel a little more rejuvenated. I'm not ready to go out and take over the world (yet) but at least I'm actually crossing some things off of my list today. The Dude is planning on coming over and spending some much-needed time over the next few days, and hopefully we can use some of that time to get some things done around here and to relax together - both of which we haven't been able to do much of lately.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

I had to take Daniel to an ENT today because we found out last week that one of the tubes that was put in his ears in 2009 or 2010 is still in there. He hasn't been having any issues with it (obviously, or we would have known that it was there) but his pediatrician wanted to have it checked.

Because of the distance and timing of the appointment, I pulled both him and Alex out of school for the afternoon. The Dude went with us and we headed out for the appointment. When we got there, The Dude and Alex hung out in the main waiting room while Daniel and I went to various locations throughout the clinic - one place for the check in, one place for the hearing test, another place for the actual exam....

While we were in one of the waiting rooms, I watched a little girl who couldn't have been more than about 2 years old. She was there with her mother and as soon as they walked in, the mother handed her cell phone to her and the little girl proceeded to watch a video or something on it (I'm not sure what it was, but the accompanying music was ...... interesting). I didn't think too much of it until the phone dinged with what I assume was a notification, and the mother took the phone from her to check it. The little girl FREAKED OUT and started screaming, until the mother handed it back to her. A few seconds later - same thing.

Around that time, a boy walked in with his mother. He was older, maybe 4 or 5. He sat down and immediately started doing something on an electronic tablet gizmo. When they got called into an exam room, he pitched a fit about having to put the tablet away.

In the meantime, Daniel was sitting on a chair beside me, reading an old copy of Sports Illustrated. He occasionally pointed out a picture to me or asked me what certain words meant. When it was his turn, he put the magazine back on the table and walked into the exam room.

The exam went well. This is a new ENT to us because ours apparently left town at some point in the past few years, but this guy seems pretty cool. Daniel's hearing is perfectly normal, although the wayward tube does need to come out of his ear. It's not an emergency, so we're waiting until after he is done wrestling in a few weeks to do it. It's all good. No biggie.

When we were done, we got The Dude and Alex from the main waiting room where they had been reading an issue of Time together. I said something to The Dude about the kids in the other waiting room with their electronics, and he said that he had seen some of the same while he was waiting for us.

After that, we decided to take the boys and go see a movie and get something to eat. We had a blast just hanging out and goofing off and made total pigs of ourselves at the restaurant. While we waited for our food to arrive, the boys worked on the word searches on the kids menu, and then had more fun finding words that weren't even on the list. But while we were sitting there eating, I noticed it again. There was a little girl, maybe 7 years old, playing on an iPad-like gizmo. But she wasn't just sitting at her table - she was wandering around the restaurant with it, staring intently at it the entire time. She didn't look up and ran into several people, including waitstaff with trays full of food. The adults with her (I assume her parents) just let her go for the most part, although I did see the woman go and get her and bring her back to the table a time or two.

When we go on our family road trips, people always ask me what video games I take along to keep the kids amused. Or they want to know if we want to borrow their portable DVD players for the ride. They are always stunned when I say that we make these trips without the electronics. (The girls do have iPods that they bought with their own money, but without wifi all they can do is listen to music that they've downloaded - which they do because they don't like our music.) Instead of playing with the electronics that would inevitably get lost, broken, or tossed aside with dead batteries, we play those silly old travel games. Or we look out the window to see the scenery. Or we teach the kids how to read a map. Or we talk to each other.

Personally, I think it's pretty cool that we do the road trips the "old-fashioned way".

Seriously people - when did it become "normal" to shove an electronic gizmo into a kid's hands and count on that gizmo to keep the kid amused instead of doing it ourselves?

I see it more and more. Kids who are barely more than infants who pitch an absolute screaming fit if Mom takes away the phone or the iPod or whatever the gadget of the day is. Older kids who can't even go to the grocery store without their iPod. Teenagers who aren't able to find their way to the local grocery store because they are so busy playing handheld video games that they've never paid attention on the ride there. Kids who have crappy social skills because when they go to the neighborhood block party they are too busy looking at a screen to even figure out that there are other kids there and they could all be running around playing and having fun if they weren't trying to get the next high score.

Why is this becoming the norm? Why have we become so electronics-centered that we can't go anywhere without them?

I'm just as guilty as the next person when it comes to my phone. It goes everywhere with me for many reasons. Besides the fact that as a single parent I rely on it in emergencies, it's also the only way that the school can contact me if something happens with the kids. It's how my family reaches me if something happens with my parents, which sadly is happening more and more often these days. But I also play around with it in waiting rooms at doctors and while waiting for my food to arrive - but I can also put it away while I'm eating or while I'm at the movies or whatever. Other than the girls and their iPods, the kids don't have electronics. If we go somewhere that might involve waiting, they bring books to read or draw pictures or people watch.

We don't have video games at home. We don't even have cable. They watch DVDs or occasionally play on my laptop - or they read or color or play with Legos or ride their bikes or play ball in the backyard.

They aren't perfect. They can act spoiled or self-centered or entitled or downright nasty at times. But for the most part they are fairly well-behaved and can have awesome social interactions with people and are excelling in school and sports and almost everything else that they do. There is no way to know if it's because they have limited screen time, but I do think that it has something to do with it.

I do know that when they get bored, they can usually create a game to play with each other. Granted, sometimes it ends in a fist fight, but more often than not they can amuse themselves for several hours.

I know that they love to go to the library to get new books to read, and that even my very hyper and active boys can plop themselves down on the couch when the weather is bad and get lost in a pile of books for an entire day if I let them.

I know that they enjoy the road trips and love to talk about things that they've seen along the way, even if we didn't stop to play tourist at that particular spot. They've also asked me to find out more information on things that they spotted, so I know that they're paying attention to the world around them.

I also know that avoiding electronics is impossible in this day and age. I just wish that more parents would find a better balance in their use.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Here we are, almost officially halfway through the month of January already.

How did that happen?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that time doesn't pass us by at the same rate all of the time. OK, maybe officially it does. But it certainly doesn't always seem that way.

Over the past few years, January has become a very ..... memorable month for me.

January 12, 1998 - The day that I set up residency in Kansas after a 5 day cross-country trek from Long Island with all of my belongings in the back of a Ryder truck, my car on a dolly behind it, and my cat on the front seat beside me. (Someday, I'll spill all of the details as to why that move happened, but for now - that's something that I keep to myself and very few people know the full story.)

January 7, 2005 - My divorce from Ex1 was final.

January 17, 2006 - Jared was admitted to the hospital with a very severe bug. He was so very sick, and it was so scary, so I planned to stay with him that night and one of my best friends came to stay with us. I was still 3 weeks away from my due date with Alex, but I went into labor that night...

About 2 weeks after that, Jeff proposed to me - and I said yes. I honestly don't remember the exact date on that one.

January 7, 2011 - The date that my divorce from Jeff could have been final (see the coincidence there?)

January 13, 2011 - My 40th birthday, and the day that my divorce from Jeff was actually final.

January 21, 2012 - The Dude and I made our first road trip together, and he got to meet some of my friends. We decided on that trip that if we could survive the weekend without killing each other, then we could probably get along for a while (I guess we were right).

January 27, 2014 - I bought a house. I bought a freaking house. (Sorry, that one's still a little surreal.)

So yeah, January has historically been a month of ups and downs for me. I'm not generally one to live in the past or to remember a ton of dates - I actually had to look at a calendar to remember some of the dates that I listed. And even though I might remember them, I don't usually make a big deal about them. I used to semi-celebrate January 7 as the date that the first divorce was final, but this year? I didn't even remember it. At the time, I was thrilled when the second divorce was final on my 40th birthday and I planned to celebrate it yearly - but that was short-lived when he passed away less than 3 weeks later.

Over the past few days, I've caught myself dwelling on some of these dates more than I usually do. I don't know why it happened, but maybe because I was sick for the past day or so and didn't really have anything to do other than sleep and think.

More often than not, I've thought of January as a month of losses, mainly because both of my marriages were officially over during this month. For the longest time, I thought of those as failures - and to a point, I still do. But at the same time, admitting that I failed both times has set me up for some new beginnings. Some turned out to be not so good (hence Divorce #2) but some have turned out to be pretty awesome (hello, having a baby and buying a house?) and I wouldn't trade them for the world. And seriously, my birthday - the one day of the year when it is honestly and truly all about me. (Except for yesterday. Yesterday was all about the plague for both me and The Dude. So I'm calling a do-over for my birthday yesterday.)

I know that everyone's situations are different, but I see so many people who seem to be content living in the past. They focus so much on the bad stuff that has happened, and while they're looking behind them they're tripping over what's in front of them - or worse yet, they're pushing it out of their way so that they can continue to look back.

Looking forward doesn't mean that the past didn't happen. It doesn't mean that the past isn't important. It doesn't mean that you should never look back - we can only see how far we've come by seeing where we were - but in order to get anywhere without tripping and falling flat on your face, you've got to look ahead.

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Like most people, I'm in a few groups on facebook. There's one group in particular where it seems like we end up inadvertently having a "theme" day every now and then. Someone will post a ridiculous selfie, and then we all do it. Or video updates. Pictures of our kids. Whatever.

Today, I was too busy running around to really pay attention to how it started, but pictures of everyone's offices were being posted. When I saw it, I was actually on my way out the door to the grocery store, and so I posted a picture of my cart as my "office for the day".

When I got done at the store, I had to rush straight to the schools to get the kids, and then home to unload the groceries and start supper. At the same time, I was helping with homework and signing agendas and starting a new grocery list for everything that I forgot to get today.

I was making a mental meal plan for the rest of the week and occasionally pulling out my phone to look at my calendar to try to remember everything else that had to be done. Then I got the kids who were home started on supper while I ran out to pick Emily up from basketball practice, and then started cleaning the kitchen and baking some snacks for lunches and after school.

As it turned out, the kitchen was actually my main office for the day. Or at least for the afternoon and evening.

For whatever reason, I managed to actually be more organized than usual tonight. I got all of the dishes done (putting them in the dishwasher counts as "done" in my book) and made the pancake batter for morning. I put the griddle out so I literally just have to plug it in and start pouring batter for pancakes instead of fumbling around to mix it like I usually do. I packed the majority of the kids' lunches so that all I have to do is make their sandwiches and toss their string cheese into their respective bags and then chase them out into the van.

Theoretically speaking, as long as everyone gets up on time, the morning *should* be fairly easy....although I'm sure that it will fall apart somewhere.

Of course, in the middle of all of this, it was pointed out to me that the bathroom faucet was messed up again. I just replaced the stems in it a few weeks ago and was super proud that it wasn't dripping constantly anymore, and now it's jacked up again. I hope that it's just something that needs to be tightened, but I won't know that until I can shut the water off to the house (because no shut off under the sink) and pull it apart again, so depending on how that goes, my "office" tomorrow will definitely include the bathroom and possibly one or more hardware stores.

Until then......yes, there are bricks putting enough pressure on the handle to keep the water from running all night long.

Don't judge. It's working for now.

And yes, I know, the sink is filthy. Again, don't judge. I'll deal with that later.

I used to have an actual office job. I had to get up early and get dressed every day (luckily girl clothes weren't required, but I still had to look human) and drive 30 miles each way to sit in a cube and push papers and run around the state visiting people to make sure that they were getting the care that they needed. I got paid a decent amount of money and enjoyed what I did for the most part.

Sometimes, I miss that life. I miss getting out and seeing people (even if I didn't like ALL of the people I had to deal with on a regular basis) and having a regular routine.

But then again, I wouldn't trade my "offices" now for any of that. I love that I can be home with my kids at a moment's notice when they need me and that I can go to school functions during the day without having to rearrange an entire work day and get permission from the boss. I can do laundry and grocery shop and fix busted sinks while they're in school, and spend the evenings with them (even if I'm in the kitchen for most of the evening).

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

I knew I wanted to write something about New Years. But did I want to do resolutions? Goals? The year in review? A post blasting the cliches of resolutions?

Honestly, this year has been a total whirlwind for me.

Seriously? I bought a freakin' house. A HOUSE. How did that happen? Days away from homelessness a few short years ago, and now a homeowner? For real?

Just a few weeks short of a year later, it's still surreal. From tearing out old flooring, putting in new flooring, dealing with a flood, a worn-out water heater, more yardwork and cleanup and tree trimming and digging and planting than I care to think of, so much cleaning and unpacking and organizing (still)..... I still catch myself running my hands down the walls and thinking to myself "holy crap, this is MINE" at least once a day.

The list of projects, both inside and out, continues to grow, but it's a manageable list. We have things to work towards to make the house perfect, and I know that we'll get to them sooner or later, but it's mine. My house.

It's insane.

The boys have adjusted well to their new school. They've become involved in sports and have made tons of friends and love to be outside terrorizing the neighborhood with the other kids. The older kids enjoy not having to bounce back and forth between two towns to spend time with each parent, and the stress level has decreased greatly.

Life is good.

Do I have 'resolutions' for next year? Not really. Goals? Yes. But I hesitate to call them resolutions, only because I know the failure rate of my so-called resolutions.

Am I going to list them out for the world to see? Nope. Not this time. Sometimes, I do better when I don't have an audience. Sometimes, it's better to do things just for myself, and then it's more fun if someone else happens to notice.

I will say that I'm officially signed up for two half-marathons already, but that shouldn't come as a surprise for anyone who has been around for a while. I have some other health-related goals, and some financial ones, and some personal ones. I do hope to write more, and take more pictures, and sew more.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Today, the son of one of my oldest friends was sentenced for a crime that he committed.

The sentence, while harsh, is fair. He screwed up. He screwed up in a really big, really bad way. There's no getting around that. He admitted it. He has apologized and is remorseful, but that doesn't change anything.

I met this young man several years ago. I was impressed with his attitude, his demeanor, his respect that he showed to those around him.

But sometime after that, he made mistakes. There is no excuse for what he did.

I have watched the reports about him in the media. Most of them have been neutral. Fact-based. Emotionless. This happened, and then this happened, and he did this, and then this.

But that's where the neutrality ended. Hiding behind their monitors, the keyboard warriors struck out at this young man and his family. His family, who had nothing to do with the crimes committed, was attacked.

His mother - my friend - was called every name in the book. She was blamed for his wrongdoings, as though she was the one egging him on to commit the crimes. The comments left by anonymous people turned my stomach. People suggested that his parents were to blame, or that they somehow encouraged this kind of behavior from him, or worse yet - that they should be punished for what he did.

Honestly, in the past, I never really thought about the families of criminals. They were generally nameless beings, someone who floated around in the background at the trials or tried desperately to hide from the barrage of video cameras.

But I know this mother. I've known her for close to 30 years. I remember the letters that she wrote to me when she was in the service, the ones telling me that she was pregnant, and the ones including baby pictures of her boys. We lost touch for a while, but through the miracle of social media we reconnected and I loved seeing the pictures that she posted of her sons. The love she has for them is incredible.

And then the unthinkable happened. And I watched the articles that were posted online. And I read every single comment that was posted. I cried for her, for the wrong assumptions that people made about her parenting, and for the threats that were made against her because of her son's mistakes. I wanted to scream at these people, "but you don't even know her!" but I couldn't. I couldn't say anything, because there is no reasoning with people who are looking to vilify someone.

Somehow, she has managed to hold her head up high through all of this. She has shown such an amazing amount of strength and courage despite what people have said. I don't know how she manages to do it.

I do know that she doesn't deserve the nasty names.
She doesn't deserve the hatred.
No one has the right to threaten her or her family.
She shouldn't be judged based on his actions.
She didn't commit the crimes.

She is already being punished. She has had to watch her child make mistakes and suffer the severe consequences for his actions. She questions herself as to what she could have done differently or how she could have prevented this, knowing full well that despite what anyone else thinks, she did her best.